Data's Traditional Family Thanksgiving
by fictiongal
Summary: Still on the path of exploring human emotion, Data takes on a traditional holiday of Thanksgiving to learn how families interact. He wants it to be as authentic as possible and Picard's senior staff is recruited to participate. I don't own Star Trek. Please leave a review.


Data's Traditional Family Thanksgiving

"How are those diagnostics coming along, Data?" Geordi asked. "We need those before we install the new equipment being delivered this afternoon."

"You will have the completed results in three hours, twenty-four minutes and 43 seconds," Data replied. Then he turned to look at Geordi who was busily entering numbers from the diagnostic readouts into the tablet in his hands. "As you know, Geordi, I have been studying Earth traditions in regard to how they reveal the nuances of human emotion of which I am a dedicated student."

"Oh yes, I know. I don't think anybody's going to forget your Halloween haunted house party any time soon."

"That is most gratifying. I hope that my Thanksgiving celebration will be equally memorable."

Geordi looked up from the tablet in his hands. "Your what celebration?"

"Thanksgiving. The event stems from annual harvest celebrations and was proclaimed a national holiday in the old United States of America where it was observed faithfully for much of that nation's history. The holiday falls on the fourth Thursday of each November, which is three days from now."

"So how do you celebrate this holiday?"

"Families gather together for purposes of socialization and reconnection over a large meal that follows a somewhat limited menu. I will prepare that meal and invite those on board that I consider equal to family. I include you among those persons."

"Oh. Well. Thank you, Data. You thinking of me as family is really…" he looked for the right word, "…nice."

"So you will attend?"

"Umm…," he hesitated for a moment, remembering Halloween, but then gave in under Data's unrelenting stare. "Yeah, sure. I'd be happy to come."

"Excellent." Data nodded briefly and returned to his diagnostics.

Geordi stepped a discrete distance away from his android friend, and tapped his comm badge. "La Forge to Captain Picard."

"Are we on schedule, Mr. La Forge?"

"Yes, sir. Also, I wanted to give you a head's up. It's about Data's holiday studies. Apparently, he wants to celebrate another one... something called Thanksgiving."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. La Forge. I am aware. I received another handwritten invitation this morning. Can't say that I'm exactly looking forward to it, however, I think it is important that we continue to show Data our support."

"Yes, sir. I told him I'd be there."

"Good man," Picard said, and clicked off.

When the delivery shuttle docked with the Enterprise to deliver Engineering's new equipment, Geordi was there in the bay to take receipt and check the inventory list. As the equipment was being off loaded, to his surprise Data entered.

"Data, you don't need to be here. I've got this," Geordi told him.

"I am not here in regard to the new equipment. I am expecting a personal delivery of something I ordered for Thanksgiving."

One of the shuttlecraft personnel approached them. "Are you Data?"

"I am."

"Sign here, and I'll bring your crate." The man handed Data a tablet. Data signed it and handed it back. Moments later, the man returned pulling a large wooden box on a wheeled cart. "Here you go."

"What's with all the holes?" Geordi asked looking at the oddly punctured container.

"Air vents," Data said and easily picked up the box. Something inside scrambled around and made a very peculiar warbling noise.

"What the heck is in there?" Geordi asked.

"It is a live turkey, an Earth born avian species. Our main course for the Thanksgiving Day meal.

"You're actually going to kill and cook a bird?"

"Affirmative."

"What's wrong with the food replicators?"

"I have often heard complaints from the crew that replicated food can be disappointing in texture and flavor. This is a special meal. I intend to prepare everything fresh in accordance with tradition."

Data turned and departed, crate in hand.

Geordi just shook his head.

Three days later, the senior staff gathered in front of the door to the main Observation Lounge where their invitations had specified they meet for a "_Traditional Family Thanksgiving Day Celebration_." As requested in the invitation, they were dressed in civilian clothing, and wearing the nametags Data had assigned to them. Captain Picard's nametag read '_Father_,' Deanna's read '_Mother_,' Will's said _'Number One Son_,' Dr. Crusher's read '_Aunt_,' Geordi's said "_Cousin,'_ and Worf's said '_Uncle_.'

"I get the Father, Son part," Will said, "but the rest of these are totally screwed up."

"Remember," Deanna said, "this is from Data's perspective, not ours."

"Okay, Mom. But you know what that makes me."

"Shush," she said and almost lost it.

The door to the Observation Lounge opened and Data greeted them. "Welcome. Please come in and take your seats."

Picard noted that Data wore a name tag as well. His read _'Number Two Son_." Picard couldn't help but smile at that, but made no comment. This was Data's show and he would let Data reveal whatever he wanted to in his own time.

The room inside had been decorated in autumn tones of orange, yellow, and brown. A large cornucopia graced the center of the table spilling out spotted gourds and fresh fruit. Strategically placed golden candles lit each place setting where a name tag that matched the one they wore could be found. Picard discovered the one for _Father_ at the head of the table. He saw Deanna stop at the chair on the other end of the table. Will was positioned to his right. Beverly sat on his left, with Worf next to her. Geordi sat next to Worf, which left two open seats beside Will. Data moved to the seat next to Deanna leaving the center one between him and Will empty.

"Before serving the meal, I would like to explain the reasons for the name tags."

"We'd very much like to hear this," Picard said in encouragement.

"Thanksgiving is a holiday traditionally shared with one's family. Although in reality we are not family, we do at times function in a manner similar to one, thus it seemed suitable to me that we take on those roles here in order to more fully experience the concept of a shared family meal. Captain Picard's paternal role as our leader provided a clear choice that he should be the father figure for this holiday celebration. Counselor Troi offers emotional support and guidance which comports with the role of a mother. Commander Riker's position as First Officer and first in line for promotion puts him in relationship to the Captain as a Number One Son. Dr. Crusher and the Captain have a long standing close acquaintance, much like siblings, hence she has the role of Aunt. Commander Worf is biologically distinct from humans but has transferred his allegiance to the Federation, similar to someone who would marry into a family, thus he is the Uncle. I had a little more trouble deciding Geordi's role. I consider him a peer, but he spends little time on the Bridge, so he is one step removed from the core family unit. Thus I designated him as Cousin. For myself, I chose Number Two Son, since in the absence of Commander Riker, I would most likely be selected to fill his position."

"Well, that all makes perfect sense. Not that I'm surprised," Picard said. "You haven't explained the empty seat, however."

"The empty seat represents those family members who cannot be present. The empty chair may signify different people for each of you. For me, it represents Lt. Tasha Yar."

"I see," Picard said and looked at the empty seat thinking of numerous people who might have sat there if circumstances hadn't prevented it.

"I didn't expect your celebration to be sad," Deanna said.

"I believe family events inevitably produce a variety of conflicting emotions," Data stated. "From what I have read, Thanksgiving Day meals are frequently stressful and may even occasionally result in violent confrontations."

"Data, I hope you're not going to do anything to start a fight here," Will said.

"That is not my intention. I was merely making an observation. My hope is that we will have pleasant conversation and enjoy a delicious meal together as a family. With Father's permission, I would like to serve the food now."

"Permission granted," Picard said.

Data immediately stood again and walked over to the long table at the end of the room filled with covered dishes. He brought them over one by one filling all the available empty space on the table. "We will eat family style," he explained, "which means each person will help him or herself to the food from the nearest dish, then pass it to the right to the next person." As he removed each of the covers from the plates revealing the variety of food it contained, he identified each one. "Mashed potatoes, gravy, mixed vegetables, cranberry sauce, hot breads, candied yams, gelled salad. And now for the main course…roast turkey and stuffing, also known as dressing," he whipped off the lid of the largest dish and the smaller one beside it with a flourish, revealing a perfectly browned bird ready for carving, and a large bowl of seasoned baked stuffing. "I do not know why the latter is known by two names. Perhaps one dresses the turkey by stuffing it, although that seems illogical as a dress is normally worn on one's exterior.

"Whatever you call it, it smells wonderful ," Beverly exclaimed. "Did you do all this yourself, Data?"

"I did. I wanted the meal to be as faithful to the holiday as possible."

"Well, I can't wait to try it. I know what a good cook you are," she said.

"Captain…, I mean, Father, are you going to carve that Turkey?" Will asked.

"Yes, Number One Son, I believe I am. I assume that's why this gigantic fork and bladed knife are sitting before me."

"Yes, sir," Data confirmed. "If you don't mind."

"I'd be honored," Picard replied. "I have had some experience at this fortunately."

He picked up the designated weapons of attack and began slicing the bird into sections, while the others passed dishes around and helped themselves. Soon a plateful of turkey joined in the passing.

"Everything is really good, Data," Will said and stuffed more stuffing into his mouth.

"It is," Deanna nodded in agreement. "You must have done a lot of research to program the replicators to make all this so faithfully."

"Actually, I relied very little on the replicators," Data replied. "I wanted the food to be freshly prepared. The vegetables and fruits were harvested from the ship's arboretum. I spent quite a bit of time cooking in the ship's galley."

"Yeah, he even sent for a live turkey," Geordi said.

Deanna stopped chewing. "A live turkey?"

"The main course," Geordi confirmed. "So how did that go anyway?"

"Unexpectedly disturbing," Data replied. "I took the turkey to the galley in anticipation of killing it and preparing it for our meal, however, in the process the turkey escaped from its cage and caused a great deal of commotion while I attempted to recapture and subdue it. I had not anticipated the uproar, the subsequent untidiness, and the emotional response from the galley personnel that resulted. The head chef banned me from his kitchen."

Deanna felt her stomach turn over and she put her fork down. "That poor bird. Data, how could you?"

"I agree it was a most unfortunate affair. However, when I promised there would be no such incidents in the future, I was allowed to finish preparing this meal for us."

"Much appreciated, Data. Best food I've eaten in a long time," Worf said, as he ripped off a big mouthful from the leg in his grip. "The dark meat is the best."

"Actually, I've always been a breast man myself," Will replied.

Picard choked and coughed in response. Data jumped up and poured him a glass of water.

Data paused to look at Counselor Troi, who had taken on an unhealthy pallor. "Mother, I cannot help but notice that you do not appear to be enjoying your meal."

"Yeah, come on, Mom. Just look at all that nice juicy turkey," Will said. "You don't want your number two son's hard work to go to waste, do you?"

Deanna gave Will a scowl in response, and took a deep breath trying to counter the sour feeling in her stomach. "I'm sorry, Data. I'm just not very hungry."

"I understand. Perhaps you would like to take some back to your quarters for later. I would be happy to wrap some turkey up for you. I understand that sharing leftovers is also traditional."

Deanna just shook her head, and covered her mouth. "Excuse me," she said and hurriedly left the room.

"It appears that Mother is not feeling well," Data observed. "Most unfortunate. I prepared several desserts which I know she especially enjoys."

"I'd better go check on her," Beverly said, back in doctor mode, and left as well.

After the meal, Data served up brandy and cigars. "This is a ritual traditionally performed by the men in the family. I would have invited Counselor Troi and Dr. Crusher to participate as well, of course, but their absence does make this more authentic."

"I agree," Worf said and let out a large burp. "And much more relaxing."

Picard shook his head, but enjoyed taking another puff on the cigar he'd been given. "I can't remember the last time I had a cigar. I never think of it. Probably just as well. I suggest we don't mention this to the good doctor."

"Right," Will agreed. "I can just imagine the lecture."

"Well, Data, as Thanksgivings go, I'd say you did pretty well," Geordi commented.

"Thank you, Geordi. Another part of this tradition is to express what one is thankful for. In that regard, I would have to state, that I am thankful for all of you here. I am thankful that you agreed to participate in another of my experiments is deepening my comprehension of human emotion. I believe this evening's interactions will benefit me in that regard."

"You're welcome," Picard said. "I too am thankful for the people in this room, the ones who just left, and all the ones who couldn't fill that empty chair this evening. Thank you, Data, for reminding us to be more appreciative. Maybe Thanksgiving is a holiday that should be resurrected."

"Hear, hear," Will agreed and raised his glass of brandy. "To Thanksgiving."

After the men said good-night, Geordi stayed behind to help Data clean up. "What are you going to do with all this stuff," he asked looking at the boxes of decorations.

"I believe I will save it. The Captain did express an appreciation for this holiday. Perhaps I will resurrect it again next year."

"Okay. I'll help you carry these boxes to your quarters then."

Upon entering Data's room, Geordi stopped in his tracks. "What the heck?" There in the corner was a large fenced area occupied by a very large, very much alive turkey. "Data, did you have more than one bird?"

"No, I only had the one."

"I thought you took it to the galley to kill it."

"I did. As I said, the ensuing events proved disturbing. I could not bring myself to end his life. As it turns out Spot is rather fascinated by Gobbles and has befriended him."

"So what the Captain carved up and served to us was a replicated turkey."

"Yes. Did I not make that clear?"

"Not really. Data, I think you should introduce Deanna to Gobbles."

Data cocked his head. "Counselor Troi did call him a poor bird, which would indicate an emotionally vested interest in his welfare. So you think she would like Gobbles?"

"More importantly, I think she might just like you a little better."

Data puzzled for a moment, then seemed to understand. "I will introduce them."


End file.
